World Champion in what?
by SuperstitiousSeaturtles
Summary: Poland and Prussia have a little fight before the World Conference begins. Okay, maybe not a little… Who can talk them out of killing each other? America doesn't have much time to figure it out. Oneshot, no ships. Human names used as well as nation names.


"Don't be ridiculous!"

"Oh, I'm _so_ not being ridiculous! Just because you're a sore looser-"

"_Excuse me_? May I remind you of _any_ Football World Cup _ever_?"

"That's such a lie, jerkface! 1972 - _Olympic Champions_. 1974 - third place in _Germany_. 1982 - third place is Spain. I've beaten England, Brazil, Portugal, _your brother_-"

"Yeah, _in the last century_! Grow up, princess, your glory days are long gone!"

"You realise football isn't the only sport that gets world championships, right?"

"Oh, come on, nobody cares about-"

"_I just became the world volleyball champion, for crying out loud!_"

"Good for you. _Do I look like I care_?"

"Guys, guys, chill out. I'm sure both of you are-"

"SHUT UP."

Suddenly all the anger both nations were previously directing at each other focused on poor, innocent America. "Okay… I'm gonna go and check… If I'm not in the hallway, or something."

Everyone was used to Poland and Prussia bickering, but this was beyond their usual fighting matches. This had a very high probability of getting bloody. America quickly escaped the conference room, leaving the two with an exasperated Germany. He trusted Ludwig would prevent any serious damage from happening to either of the nations.

As soon as Alfred was out of the room, he let out a sigh of relief. Now, who was friends with both Poland and Prussia, and could get them to stop trying to murder each other? Not Lithuania… not Spain… _definitely_ not Russia…

His musings were interrupted by a hand moving frantically right in front of his face.

"_Hello_! America! I'm talking to you!"

He blinked. When did England get here?

"Dude, whatever it is, it can wait. Feliks and Gilbert are at each others throats, and I mean big time. If we don't do something, we could be facing World War III soon."

England rolled his eyes. "America, you realise that Prussia is no longer a nation, right? He can't officially start a war."

"Artie, I mean it. It has to do with sports, and you know how competitive they get. We need someone they both like to talk to them, but I have no idea who. I don't really pay tat much attention to Europe…" Alfred scratched his head and looked pleadingly at Arthur.

"Hm… Maybe Hungary? Gilbert likes her, right? And Poland and her have been best friends since the tenth century."

"Yeah, that could work! Awesome!" not waiting for England to say anything else, the nation made his way down the hallway to find the potential peacemaker.

* * *

><p>"They're in there."<p>

"What is it about again?"

"Um… Sports?"

Hungary sighed. "Never mind, I'll figure it out." She opened the doors to find the two nations red faced and shouting even louder than before. "Boys, boys, what is going on?"

"He started it!" they both shouted in unison. Hungary only smirked.

"What do you mean _I_ started? You were the one who came in here bragging about kicking Germany's butt…"

"Ha! So you _do_ admit I kicked Germany's butt!" Feliks pointed at Gilbert triumphantly.

"In _volleyball_!"

Erzsébet snickered. "Well, he did kind of kick your brother's butt Gil…"

Prussia was fuming. "What do _you_ know? You're a _girl_!"

"_Excuse me!?_"

O-oh.

That was bad. That was _really_ bad. America backed up against a wall. Instead of two nations trying to rip each others faces off, he was now faced with three, and now he had no idea what to do.

"You conceited little prick! You think you're just so much better than everyone else, don't you? Well, for your information, you're just an egotistical, half-witted _ex_-nation, who can't bear to think anyone can actually beat him at something!"

"That's what I've been telling him!" Poland joined in.

"Boo-hoo, why don't you both go cry in the corner, you-"

The door suddenly opened with a loud thump, and a very enthusiastic "Hello!" made all of the nations look at the person causing both sounds. Italy just obliviously smiled and walked up to them.

"Hi, Miss Hungary! Hi, Ludwig! Oh, hi, Gilbert, I'm so glad you're here! The conferences are always so much more fun with you!" he gave the bewildered, and now speechless albino a tight hug. "And Feliks! Congratulations, it's really cool, you're a world champion now! How about we celebrate with some pasta, huh?"

"I know! I'm totally up for some pasta after the conference. So, did you actually watch the game? It was amazing!" and, blabbering on about how he totally annihilated Brazil in the final match, Poland walked off with Italy by his side.

Alfred was still standing against the wall, his mouth wide open.

Yeap, the Europeans were definitely weird.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**So, in case you don't know/care, Poland won the volleyball world championships a couple of days ago, and people are pretty stoked.**

**This was kind of my "taking a break" story, to reset my brain. I think both Gilbert and Feliks are pretty competitive when it comes to sports, so I thought of this. I think Prussia has a weak spot for Italy.**

**Please tell me what you thought. Reviews are like magic food for writers, they make them wanna write more!**


End file.
